


Nightmares

by HiMiTSu



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on from StarOfFeanor: “Lex having a nightmare and he’s screaming for help in his sleep. Superman hears someone crying for help and he goes, but then when he gets there and sees Lex he starts to get awkward cause he doesn’t know what to do. Like he wants to leave cause Lex isn’t in danger, but he also doesn’t want to leave him like that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

Clark heard a voice. He heard many voices and, curiously, they only got louder at night. Not squandered by ordinary chatter, not overpowered by the traffic or the TV or any other background noise. The night was never a time of peace for Superman but there was still something calming in the cold evening air. He flew and the lights of the city lead his way.

A scream was sharp and desperate. A voice of a man about to lose a fight for his life. Superman veered to the right, gaining speed and chasing this horrible sound. The source was on the edge of the city, almost behind the border. He hesitated when the building finally came in sight – a big industrial facility which bore a LexCorp logo on the roof.  Superman was never welcome there. But he drove ahead at the sound of another scream, careful about any tricky security. There was none and with x-ray vision he could easily see through the walls and scan the whole building. This must have been the ordinary facility, one that produced computer chips and not tried to duplicate dangerous alien technology.

Despite the late hour, there was a couple dozen people inside: some security guards, a couple research scientist in the labs, but only one lonely figure in a remote office space. Clark aimed for the right window. It was open.

The screaming had stopped but he heard a whimper, resonating loudly in the quiet so far from the city center. A lamp on the large futuristic desk was the only light source, casting cold impersonal light which only made the shadows look more menacing. It reflected from chrome and glass of the table and the chairs and got lost in the far corners of the room. The atmosphere it created made Clark feel uncomfortable and unwelcome but he stepped inside. His gaze swept around the office and stopped on a large sofa by the wall opposing the windows. A figure was huddled under the blankets, burrowed in this small nest for comfort but not finding it. A harsh tremor wreaked the body – another small whimper filled the silence. Clark hesitated.

Now that he knew that no crime was committed, no victim in dire need of help awaited rescue…he felt his presence might be unwelcome. But he saw the man, small and fragile hiding beneath the heavy blankets, terrorized by his own subconscious. Dreams. Nightmares. Nothing I can do here, he told himself. And still, Clark was reluctant to leave. Because there was a person in a need of rescue, even if from himself.

Clark knew whose office this was. Realized it the moment his feet touched the carpet. Chrome and glass, impersonal and precise. No pictures, nothing of sentimental value. Just this man. With his red hair sprawled over the small sofa pillow. Lex Luthor.

Nothing I can do here, Clark told himself again. But he didn’t move; neither to leave nor to come closer. Nothing I can do.

Pale fingers gripped the blanket tightly. A spider web of them on the dark red wool: scary, neurotic.

Clark couldn’t see his face, half buried in the pillow, but he could feel the tension and hear a soft sniffle that came with a cry.

Nothing I can do.

Carefully, he stepped closer.

Hovered over the floor not to be heard and made his way slowly to the restless figure.

Lex Luthor. Tormented by nightmares so terrible they tore screams from his throat and made him tremble violently and squeezed the unwanted tears from his eyes. Tentatively, Clark reached out. His palm hovered just over the crown of red hair; the indecision and feeling of danger fighting over with his need to help. This might be a trap, a rational part of his mind whispered and urged him to go, leave and forget. But compassion won.

Clark leaned in and carefully patted the top of Luthor’s head. The man stiffened immediately and Clark thought he might wake up. Clark waited a moment, frozen in trepidation, and, when nothing happened, put more feeling into the touch. He ran his fingers over the crown of Luthor’s head, smoothing away the sweat soaked strands of hair. Every touch brought peace: he could feel the haunted man relax.

Clark hummed softly under his breath, a melody Martha used to sing when he was small. A lullaby for a frightened child. A sigh, as light as a feather, fell from Luthor’s lips. He was calm now.

Clark finished the verse, feeling strangely unconcerned with the absurdness of the situation, and, when he knew the nightmares had been chased away, withdrew as quietly as he came. As he hovered behind the window, out of sight, he heard the blankets rustle and a voice, week through the veils of sleep, whisper, “Who is there?” No fear tarnished it and he heard Luthor’s breathing even out again as the man fell into restful sleep.


End file.
